


Little Red

by Guardian_of_Hope



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, Jinn and kids, Odd Friendships, after Xanatos, before Obi-Wan, i don't like bullies, kid character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 06:17:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13698561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_of_Hope/pseuds/Guardian_of_Hope
Summary: Qui-Gon rarely regrets following the will of the Force.  Even if it means standing in a cold alley in the middle of the night.  He doesn't even regret it leading him to Xan, even with how that turned out.Then he met Red, a Force Sensitive child who has a unique view of things.





	Little Red

**Author's Note:**

> A crazy, mixed-up story about Qui-Gon Jinn, and the Red Heads who impacted his life.

Qui-Gon Jinn had made his career out of following the will of the Force.  It had gotten him into and of several scrapes, and he was pretty sure that at least one of the High Council members had cited dealing with his missions as a reason to resign their seat, but Qui-Gon had very few regrets on the matter.

At least, he had no regrets until he was left standing outside, in a back aisle, in the middle of winter.  Wrapped in his cloak, Qui-Gon waited, wondering why the Force had drawn him here.

There was a sudden crashing noise and Qui-Gon turned around.  Someone had knocked over the metal grate of an air intake system.  As he watched, the being responsible emerged.

Tiny, was Qui-Gon’s first impression, and then young.  This was a child, human or near-human, filthy and wearing torn clothing.  The child scrambled out of the air duct and turned to look behind them for a long moment, before turning and seeing Qui-Gon.  They stared at each other for a long moment and then the child wiped their nose on his sleeve and tilted their head slightly.

“Hello.”

Qui-Gon smiled, “Hello, little one.”

“Are you here to help me?”

“Perhaps,” Qui-Gon said, “what help do you need?”

The child’s face scrunched up, and for a moment Qui-Gon thought he would start crying.  “I lost my parents.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t help but glance at the air duct.

“The scary men are there,” the child said.  “Their minds hurt me.”

Qui-Gon reached out carefully with the Force quickly confirming that the child was Force Sensitive.  Part of him wanted to abscond with the child, take them straight to Coruscant and the Temple before the ‘scary men’ figured out what had happened.  Another part, to his shame, wanted to hand off the boy to the local authorities and pretend he’d never met the child.  He paused long enough to acknowledge the feelings and their source in a tiny, pale skinned, dark haired boy.  Then he took the third option.

“I can help you find your parents,” Qui-Gon said.  “Where were you?”

The child wrinkled their nose as they thought about it, “With the ships?  Cya and, no, ‘scuse me, Mother and Father, said we were to see the Jedi!”

Qui-Gon kept his sigh internal as he noticed the child shivering, it seemed his thoughts were perhaps more related to the truth than he’d realized. “Come, let’s go somewhere a bit warmer and you can tell me about it.”  He shifted, allowing his cloak to open and reveal his lightsaber.  The child didn’t seem to notice but they came and took Qui-Gon’s hand willingly.

As the child passed through the light from a window, Qui-Gon realized that his instinctive use of third person was also accurate.  This child was of the Nat’rean trading clans, notorious for their closed societies, and tendency to chose names and genders when they were judged old enough to travel with the clans.  Qui-Gon had met a few of them over the years, and recognized the distinct braiding patterns, red hair, and delicately pointed ears.

“I am Qui-Gon Jinn,” Qui-Gon said as they left the alley.

“Dui calls me Red,” the child said with a shrug, even as their hand reached up to tug on a braid.  “The scary men called me Pretty.”

“Let’s just stick with Red,” Qui-Gon said firmly.  He glanced around locking the area in his mind in preparation for a return to seek out Red’s so-called scary men.

In the meantime, he took Red to his hotel, steering him into the café and arranging for tea and hot milk to be brought to the booth Red claimed.

“Thank you,” Red said politely.

“You’re welcome,” Qui-Gon replied.  “Now, you were with your parents?”

Red nodded, “Dui had to talk to the fat man and so Cya took me to see the other ships.  The scary men made Cya fall down.”

Qui-Gon dredged up the words, remembering they weren’t gender based, but were instead words assigned to parents who took certain roles in the child’s raising.  Cya meant a figure who looked to the child’s feeding, clothes, and domestic education.  Dui meant the one who saw to their academic education, as well as general social skills.

“And you were to see the Jedi,” Qui-Gon continued.

Red smiled at him, now in possession of a blue-milk mustache.  “I know things, I see them in my dreams.  I kept Bean from getting hurt by catching a box.  Captain Ember said I needed training.”

Clairvoyance or prescience, and maybe telekinesis, Qui-Gon mused.  The boy clearly had some talent indeed.

“I saw you,” Red announced suddenly.

“Me?”  Qui-Gon repeated.

Red nodded, “I saw you, in my dream.  Did you see it?”

“No,” Qui-Gon admitted, “what did you see?”

“Saw your red head,” Red said, “and my teacher and you.”  He tilted his head, “That’s why you get nervous, you think I’m your red head.  That would be very bad.”

“Bad?”  Qui-Gon repeated as he tried to process the boy’s comments.

“Yup,” Red said.  “In my dream we were fighting bad people.  I was nearly grown up and your Red was almost grown up.”

“Is there a difference, between nearly grown up and almost grown up?”  Qui-Gon asked.

Red shrugged, “I dunno.  I just know there was one.”

Qui-Gon hummed a moment.  “All right, Red, now, did the men put you on a ship, when they took you?”

Red shrugged, “He had funny smelling hands, they made me sleepy.”

“Then I will check with the port master, and we’ll see if anyone has been looking for you,” Qui-Gon decided, watching as Red yawned.  “In the meantime, you may sleep in my room tonight.”

“Okay,” Red agreed, rubbing his eye.

“We will see what the morning brings,” Qui-Gon murmured.


End file.
